Cuthbert and the frozen peas

Lots of people like potatoes.

They call me Cuthbert. This is good. They like me; this is even better. They like frozen peas, just like I do.

I find that it is really good that they call me Cuthbert. It is my name, but no one else ever called me Cuthbert, not even my Mother. They like me too, and they show it. No one else liked me, not even my Mother.

Now when I say frozen peas, I don't mean that I eat them hard and frozen, though when I hurt my shoulder I did put a bag of frozen peas on it to cool it down.

Lots of people like potatoes, there are so many ways to prepare potatoes. I like potatoes too, but it is nice to have peas with everything; in the winter you can make a nice pea and ham soup; they make it for me, they like me so much.

The neighbours think that I have a harem, so many women in my house, and they are right. They don't complain though, apparently it's not illegal.

I'm very proud of my harem, more than twenty girls of all ages. Everyone loves Mrs G, though she never speaks, especially Honey-Bunch who is just the opposite, always with something to say, always jumping up and down.

Felicity is big where I like it big. Mrs Happy is always grumpy, but has that something else. Verity is so sweet. Undis looks good in undies, also good without them. Josephine is a bit different, a bit strange. Patricia is pretty and Ursula is super. I enjoy all of them.

I used to have a roster for the girls, one every day or night. It was fair, every girl had her turn with me. But somehow it did not work out right. How could you possibly separate Mrs G and Honey-Bunch, they were always together.

Now we all sleep in the same big bed and everything is fine. Josephine sleeps in her own bed, but everyone understands this.

Yes, everything is fine, I enjoy the girls and they enjoy me. Until one day...

In every TV soap there is at least one nasty person, usually a woman, not that I have time to watch TV, the girls keep me very busy. This nasty person tells lies to the other characters in the soap, to make them hate each other, it is awful, but the viewers seem to love it. But they are not in the soap, they are just watching.

So who was the nasty person in my house? What woman came from outside and upset us all? You will never guess. It was Mrs G.

Mrs G you say, no chance, she never speaks. But it's true. I never said that Mrs G can't speak, it's just that she doesn't want to. But one day...

Mrs G opened her mouth and told nasty things about Honey-Bunch to Mrs Happy. Really awful. And it didn't stop with that. After two weeks none of the twenty girls were talking to each other. Honey-Bunch no longer slept wrapped up with Mrs G, no, Mrs G slept by herself in the corner of the bed.

Worse of all was Josephine, she is so sensitive, the poor little thing, she just curled up into a ball and no one saw her face for months.

I gave Mrs G some very heavy and intensive treatment, but it did not help. I had to give the other girls intensive treatment too, except Josephine; they were so unhappy. Mrs G started to say nasty things about me, when I wasn't there. Not that I was unhappy, it is the challenge for me to make all the girls in my harem happy.

Mrs G changed colour. Slowly her hair got a blue look to it and her skin too. I thought that it was hair dye and make-up.

Early one morning I was sitting on the edge of the bed thinking what to do, when Mrs Happy pushed me over and gave me the hardest treatment I have ever had. I always thought that Mrs Happy was through and through a good person, and someone who liked me as much as the other girls; but she never showed it. Now I knew. And she knows that I like what she does to me and keeps doing it to me.

But how was this going to end? I couldn't throw Mrs G out of the house, like anybody else, how could I? She had nowhere else to go.

One morning she wasn't there, I mean in bed. We found her at the bottom of the stairs, the front door was wide open, she was half covered in snow, and she was a deathly blue colour. We warmed her as best we could, the ambulance came, she was over a week in intensive care.

She recovered, she became her usual old self, she said nothing, she kissed me and all the girls repeatedly. This was her way of saying sorry. We visited her every day. Honey-Bunch was there every day and all day.

After a month or so we took Mrs G home, we were so glad to have her back, especially Honey-Bunch. However after two days Mrs G turned sour again and started talking poison. I have never seen Honey-Bunch looking so sad. It took us a whole week to work out what was wrong. But you have already guessed it.